A seed is buried in the manhole
pebbles of time to chuck at the glass screen of life;
the genuine stone in your hand- consistent is its determination
Dreams lost in the dusty drawer
a mind’s past tortures, alongside the crawling pieces
of blood clot envy under my skin- towards a love so in vain
These are the ancient wounds
jumping into conclusions; through the escaping hurdles
In place of the ghouls, the faces that flow through feeding corpses

Night falls, into a dreamer’s eyes
unlocking a world full of possibilities- insignificant fingers
trying to count up optimism misplaced in the gory wings of lips  
Fly away from your comments
comets fall in a beautiful destruction, to perish dry and blow
out the picture of a star- drinking wine at a sunrise; drunk on life

More so, more or less when
the consistent soil grows us bread to feed buttered-up charms
as lovers spread out their love to the distaste of a jealous bunch
Don’t open, that love jar
letting out that sickening hint of spark- once you open that door
it will close you in defeat; from head to sole jumping in heartache’s
repeat…

Love: in just being an option
At times I don’t like most of them;
Where to start inside of a feeling
Is the beginning of an additional end;
Separate a place where I’m living
As a means to never fall in love again

Sunlight is irrelevant in a dream
for the one who still wants to stay
fast asleep

Build yourself afloat an idea of Noah’s ark,
trafficked creations through this industrial suburbia
Blinded in success’s fog lights often conspicuous;
and spun in a slow arc
That vent plugged into a socket; looking for an outlet-
old feelings to a new friendship, connected to a stream
of similar energies. But living our days as house spider
webs, vibrating time as people who go out less

Elevating breathes to awkward stares between worth;
on a tarmac’s bland lead up to an eternity lost in urbanity
— sophisticated talk between us both; trying to find
pickup lines to a car now slowed
Please don’t miss your stop, through the stark trees,
cheering you on with an Uno card- a reserve of glory
here, without any red image to resurface; a missed
purpose in the marsh grasses, tears at the water’s edge,
for the soak of fears stinging like bees

When every bird called, I seemed to only hear a scream
up until a noon brought forth; adding up myself in
a mathematic solution, of why the unnatural tones
I was really just screaming at myself, stuck of how
so many ideas were stuck in between

Twin eyes to those hours we were apart,
double standards of monetary values; the
monitoring funds to buy out your heart, in
preparation for the view of love to come

It fills my feet with a blesséd relief; walks
of faith with tears for the damp streets—
a tongue in dormancy, doesn’t have much
good for itself to say; desperately fighting
back the great sickness of life— having to
be so patient with this world

Hanging on the ledge, eyes gauzed with silver
mist, to try and seek out a golden approval of
those gone too soon to the brilliant sky, where
the air floats above a turquoise-like dome
In a time that is of mirrored jade; of those
waiting to be heard, and those who dreamt of
a better life far ahead

I have endured the gallows, revolutions,
the many twists of time, and the crashing waves
of change that have battered the shores of my life.
Through the decades that have come and gone,
I have stood as a witness to the rhythmic dance of history,
embracing the insights gleaned from its elegant movements.

The first time I encountered it, I meandered along a forest path,
surrounded by the murmurs of ancient trees, my senses finely
tuned to the secrets hidden beneath their mossy embrace.
Oblivious to what lay beneath, my curiosity propelled me
to the brink of revelation, where the curtain was drawn back,
unveiling a realm where time paused and possibilities
unfurled infinitely before me.

My skin, once marked by the trials of existence,
now glows with the light of resilience and grace, shimmering
like the morning sun as it spills golden rays upon the earth
at spring's first awakening—a tender reminder of the beauty
that emerges from enduring the darkest of nights.

I chased after a shadow living behind a dream,
stuck in the way of lights, like a stunned deer
Finding ascensions to the clouds by a life’s amount,
as the days count down; time runs up- to eventually
run out

A human life worth gold for a time; comforts that reside
in the life of those growing up with a silver spoon
Others guided forward, from a backside given a good
wooden spoon

Passing through a lifetime of judgements of a past life
for prophets who see the future first; foretelling
a destiny, to make profit into a human’s eyes

These human genes, feel so humid in these jeans
for all the objects much darker than they really appear
So said, the monster looking at themselves in the mirror,
while drowning in a pool of tears; afloat— triumphing on
old fears